


Cats

by God1643



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cute cat, Gen, Just... Generally Cats, Large Cats, small cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22361521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God1643/pseuds/God1643
Summary: I created this months ago in a sleep-deprived haze and it was suggested to me that I post it by someone on Reddit. Thank you to that someone.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Cats

Minerva, in her feline form, knew suspicion would not fall on her when Arabella lived so close, she was just another stray cat, even if she did have some distinctive facial markings.

As such, she sunk deep within her instincts for a convincingly natural behaviour-set, and strode, poised, over to where Harry was wrist deep in the soil of the Dursley’s front garden.

As she approached, the boy leaned back, hissing in pain, at yet another scratch on his hand. Grumbling lowly, he dragged the hose over from where it trickled slightly, the flow of water  _ just _ enough to irrigate the garden but not flood it, and ran his new cut under it until it was clean.

“ _ Mrow? _ ” His new guest made herself known, and Harry twitched in surprise. He turned, the hose running on his hand, and gazed with a dumbstruck expression at the cat that was bold enough to walk right up to him. That hadn’t happened in a very long time, Mrs. Figg’s cats had always avoided him. Well, at least the younger ones had.

“Hello?” He asked, tentatively, feeling very stupid for speaking to a cat.

“ _ Me _ ow.” The end of the cat’s response was faster than the start, almost as if it was echoing his own pattern of speech. He blinked, surprised, having not learned if cats could imitate sounds in school yet. Shrugging, he dug out a plastic bag from that morning, and spilled it’s contents on his cleaner palm.

“Would you like some bacon?” Minerva cocked her head, but recognized this was Harry’s attempt to reach out. Feeling warm inside that he had at least the basic capability to form proper interactions, she took another step forward and then dipped her head to eat from his hand.

The long-repressed pride in her mind that hadn’t grasped that being a cat carried a  _ differing _ set of social standards rebelled quite intensely at eating potentially dirty food from another’s human’s  _ hand _ , of all things, but Minerva knew how to control that quite well from four decades as an animagus.

Finishing her impromptu meal, Minerva butted her head against the surprised boy’s palm, spun in a circle, then flopped with her back to his leg and began to purr.

Though Harry would never admit it, he felt his eyes mist behind his glasses, and he sat, for what felt like a blissful eternity, calmly petting the cat’s side.

“What are you doing, freak?!” The voice jarred Harry and Minerva from their blissful state, and Minerva, sunk deep in her instincts, jumped up and yowled in shock. Furious at the interruption, Harry felt the bad feeling rising up from his gut, and frantically tried to tamp it back down again, which only compressed the power more intensely.

Her inner Scotswoman roaring, Minerva began to change to her human form to give the woman a proper chewing out for  _ daring _ to call young Harry such a terrible name, when she felt a wild burst of uncontrolled magic blast her in the side.

The shutters on the house rattled, the hose blew upward and away through a window, the garden was ruined in the backlash, thrown around by the expanding dome of roiling cerulean lightning.

But, more importantly, Minerva suffered a rather different effect.

She was suddenly looking down at Petunia, but not just as if she were standing and the woman laid sprawled, but at a greater height than her normal stature. Beginning to confusedly speak, it came in a  _ very _ low meow, not a string of bewildered words.

Looking down, her vision was still tinted the grey and red of her cat eyes, but she was nearly  _ eight feet _ above the ground. She moved a paw, and felt her three other paws sink into the ground under her weight. Her paw was a good foot across now, massively sized.

Meeting eyes with a horrified Petunia, Minerva didn’t bother with shifting back to become a person capable of chewing out the younger woman, she decided words were overrated entirely. She opened her cavernous maw, in a dignified manner of course, and hissed, the noise impossibly deep and loud.

It wasn’t a roar, nor was it a proper hiss either, but a wall of sound which  _ knocked _ the younger woman with a feeling of primal terror so intense she fainted dead away.

“Thank you, Mittens.” Harry said, hardly realizing he was speaking out loud. Minerva lifted him by the scruff of his shirt and padded away, and they lived happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> Continue this if you want, but please credit me.


End file.
